“If we knew what they were up to,” Jonas said, his voice dark, “we might actually have some chance of stopping them.”
“Meaning the other missing children weren’t with Penny?”
“No. She somehow escaped wherever she was being held,” Nuri said heavily. “And contacted me via dreams only two days ago.”
If Penny was also a seeker—and the fact she’d contacted Nuri via dreams suggested that was very much the case—then it certainly explained how she’d known my name and what I was. She’d simply plucked the information from the emotive swirl of my thoughts. Or maybe even from the ghosts—after all, as a seeker she could both see and communicate with them, and the younger children might not have been aware of the dangers in telling her.
“And she can’t tell you anything about where she was kept or what they were doing?”
“Nothing. She has no memory of that time, beyond what she has already told you.”
“So what is it, exactly, you want me to do?”
Nuri contemplated me for a moment, and unease swept through me. I didn’t like that look. Didn’t like the sharpening of anger radiating from the shifter.
“There’s one thing Penny probably didn’t tell you,” she said eventually. “Her parents weren’t killed at night, but rather the middle of the day.”
“Impossible,” I said immediately. If there were two truths in this world, it was that neither vampire nor Other could stand the touch of the sun.
“So we’d all thought,” she agreed. “But the truth cannot be denied. We are dealing with a new breed of wraith. One that has gained full immunity to the sun.”
Chapter 4
“Impossible,” I repeated. “If the Others have somehow gained such immunity, they would have swarmed the surface by now.”
“True,” Nuri said. “Which suggests this immunity is not widespread. And we also think it is not a natural development.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because Penny is not what she once was.”
Meaning that uneasy sense of wrongness I’d been getting every time I’d studied her hadn’t been so far off the mark. But if that were the case, why hadn’t the ghosts reacted to her? If there had been something deeply wrong with her, they should have, because ghosts were innately sensitive to the energy output of others.
“Again, I have to ask why you’d think that.”
“There is a darkness in her spirit that was not there two years ago. And because Penny’s family, like many others who now lie dead, signed up for a lucrative drug-testing program at that time.”
My frowned deepened. “Why would any family risk their lives testing unknown drugs?”
“Because it generally isn’t much of a risk. The drugs have usually undergone years of exhaustive testing, and these types of rollouts are usually the last step before release.”
“And because it pays a lot of money,” Jonas added. “Many of the families involved were living on the edge of poverty.”
“If they were living on the edge of poverty, they wouldn’t have been in Central.” They would have been in Chaos. From what I’d seen over the years, those in charge had little time or patience for those who did not pay their way.
“A statement that shows how little you know of life in Central,” Nuri murmured. “And Chaos is certainly not filled with her refugees or outcasts. It is filled with the free.”
I blinked. “You mean, people willingly live here? They choose this place over the safety of cities like Central?”
“There are worse things in this world than the vampires and Others, and many of them hide under the veil of civility and lights.” She waved a hand. “But that is neither here nor there, and does not alter the facts of what has happened.”
“So if these drug trials are the one connection,” I said, “why hasn’t the company involved been investigated?”
“Because governments will always actively protect their assets and their asses, no matter what they might say otherwise,” Jonas commented, his expression not altering but sarcasm rich in his voice.
Nuri pushed away from the wall, her skirts swishing as she walked around me. The power rolling from her took away my breath, and the ghosts stirred uneasily. That they didn’t like her wasn’t surprising given the situation, but while I hated the fact that she’d contained me, for some strange reason I could hold no real dislike for her on a personal level. In fact, I had a suspicion she was probably the fairest—or, at least, the most nonjudgmental—human I was ever likely to meet.
“The company has been investigated—inconspicuously, of course,” she said. “And it has been cleared of any connection.”
“So you’re at a dead end, so to speak?”
“Yes.”
“Then how is my anonymity going to help you?” Though I tried to keep my voice even, I couldn’t help the edge in my tone. “I’m not an investigator, or even a mercenary. And why in hell would my night sight be considered a bonus in a city that is nothing but light?”
She paused behind me and my neck crawled. I very much suspected she could kill me without even touching me.
“What, exactly, you might be is a question still to be resolved.”
The chill running through me grew stronger. I resisted the urge to rub my arms and remained still.
“However,” she continued, “we would not need your help if it were merely a matter of hunting a sunlight-enabled killer.” She moved again, reappearing to the side of me. “What we appear to be dealing with is far more problematic than that.”
She might be one of the fairest humans I was ever likely to meet, but she was also one of the wordiest. And getting to the point quickly and precisely was apparently one power she didn’t have.
She stopped in front of me again and added, “Because despite Winter Halo being cleared, I still feel there is some connection between either the company or the government itself, and the wraith attack on Penny’s family and her subsequently being taken by them.”
Meaning, I gathered, that she’d seen it in her dreams. And no government in their right mind would act against a company in which they were invested based on the dreams of a witch. “Surely no one in the government would want the wraiths to gain sunlight immunity. That makes no sense.”
“Agreed,” Nuri said. “But I still believe there is some sort of connection between that company and the wraiths. We need you simply because we cannot infiltrate Winter Halo. We all have histories, and any security check done would flag those histories.”
Another chill went through me. A full security check might well flag more than mere history for me. “And did it not occur to you that I’m living where I am simply because I have no other choice?”
“Yes. But when I dreamed of your arrival, I foresaw that you have no history in this place—and that, as I said, is a bonus.”
“It’s also a problem.” My voice remained even despite the chill and the ever-increasing churning in my stomach. “I have no papers, I’m not chipped, and I don’t even have a credit account. Getting any sort of job is next to impossible.”
Nuri waved a hand. “We can set up a radio frequency ID easily enough.”
Perhaps, but it might take only a blood sample or a deep iris scan to reveal the truth about me. The destruction of everything related to the déchet program might have been complete in my bunker, but there’d been two others involved in our production, and who knew what files might have survived in them. Even if nothing had, it simply wasn’t worth the risk of exposure. No matter how deep the urge was to rescue those children.
“If you can set up a new identity for me, what’s stopping either of you from doing the same for yourselves?”
“The fact that our faces are known. We may be able to move around Central without problem, but presenting with a different ID will raise alarms in the wrong quarters.”
And what were the wrong quarters? Military or government? “Why would this company even employ someone like me? It’s not like I h
ave many skills.”
“From what Penny said, you can fight,” Nuri commented. “And that is all they require. That, and the fact you’re—at least in part—a cat shifter. Winter Halo is currently hiring security guards.”
I frowned. “And they’re specifically looking for cat shifters? Why?”
“We don’t know.”
There were entirely too many things they didn’t know, in my opinion. I switched my gaze to Jonas. “You didn’t answer my question before—why were you and Penny in the park? Where did you actually find her?”
He contemplated me for a moment, and then his gaze flicked to Nuri’s. I had an odd feeling the two were conversing, even though I could catch no hint of it in the emotive output coming from either of them. Did that mean they were both readers, or was this communication ability confined to the two of them? There’d been some evidence during the war that shifters could communicate with select members of their pack, although it wasn’t something I’d ever witnessed.
After a moment, Jonas’s gaze returned to mine. “I found her in Carleen.”
Carleen had been one of Central’s five satellite cities, and it had been the last city destroyed in the war. These days it was little more than a vast space of broken, vine-covered remnants that was filled with shadows, even on the sunniest of days. But it was also a town filled with ghosts.
Ghosts who just might have seen what had happened to Penny.
I frowned, but didn’t chase the thought or repeat it out loud. “And is Carleen the reason you thought my night sight might be of use?”
“Yes,” Nuri said. “Darkness remains a stain on that city, and it is far too big for Jonah to search it alone.”
Jonah looked none too pleased about that particular statement, which made me suspect that whatever reasons Nuri might have for wanting my eyesight, searching Carleen wasn’t one of them.
“That same darkness is one reason why the vampires haunt it,” I commented. “It’s not exactly a safe place for a cordon of rangers. One ranger and a half-breed more skilled at running than fighting won’t exactly last all that long.”
“A cordon of rangers will attract far more attention than two versed in the art of walking silently,” Nuri commented. “That is what is needed in a situation such as this.”
So I’d been wrong—Carleen did play a part in her plans. Even so, I still very much doubted searching that entire place was what she had in mind.
I rubbed a hand across my eyes. Guilt and the instinctive need to help children weighed against the desire to keep safe, to not do anything that might jeopardize my home and all the ghosts who lived within it. In the end, it wasn’t a contest—I came down on the side of safety.
“Look,” I said resignedly, “I’d like to help, but I really can’t. It’s too dangerous for me.”
Nuri studied me for a moment, her gaze slightly narrowed and expression intent. Reading me again—or, at least, attempting to.
“I’m sure it is,” she murmured eventually. Then she blinked and half smiled. “Ah well, it was worth a shot. You may go.”
Surprise rippled through me. “And just like that, you’re releasing me?”
“Yes.” She folded her arms across her ample breasts. “There’d be no point in trying to restrain or force you to help us, now, would there?”
“No.” But that generally didn’t stop anyone—and I had a feeling it normally wouldn’t have stopped her.
“Then go.” She hesitated, and her half smile grew. “But be aware, though I release you, fate may not.”
I pushed to my feet, then met her gaze and frowned. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning fate brought you into our sphere of existence for a reason.” She shrugged. “You are haunted by guilt. I do not believe you can or will walk away from the plight of those still caught in whatever web Penny escaped from.”
“Then you’ve seriously misjudged me.” I paused. “What about my weapons?”
“The knives you can have.” Nuri produced them from somewhere within the folds of her skirt. I immediately strapped them on and felt safer for it. “The guns we shall keep. They have some interesting alterations we might replicate in our own weapons.”
Which was damn annoying, but I guessed I should be thankful they’d at least given my knives back. I stepped toward the door. The shifter pushed away from the frame but didn’t stand aside, forcing me to stop abruptly.
Once again my gaze met his. The vivid green of his eyes reminded me very much of a deep forest; they were filled with shadows and danger. Yet, as I stared into them, an odd sensation of space and calm flowed over me.
This ranger was not what he seemed.
His nostrils flared, ever so slightly, as he drew in my scent. Pheromones stung the air, his and mine, mixing enticingly. Desire flared between us, fierce and bright.
“Jonas,” Nuri said softly. “Let her go.”
His gaze left mine with an abruptness that startled and, with a cool half smile, he stepped to one side and waved me on. Leaving me wondering just who’d been seducing whom. And why.
I frowned and walked out of the cell. Neither of them moved to follow, but as I made my way down the small lane, Nuri said, her voice soft but carrying clearly, “I’ll see you soon, Tiger.”
I shivered but didn’t reply. I just got the hell out of Chaos.
• • •
Her words haunted me, plucking at my subconscious and making it impossible to sleep. Guilt, anger, suspicion, even desire—it all formed an emotive soup that burned through every fiber, tearing me apart, making me toss and turn and question my decision as much as their motives.
In the end, I gave up, got dressed, and—once I’d grabbed a coffee and the last of the protein bars I’d stolen from Central last month—headed up into the old tower to watch the stars and the remainder of the night roll by.
Dawn came and went, but it found me no less restless. I leaned against the old metal railing and glared across at the park, wishing I could see beyond the trees and the lingering shadows. Wishing I could see Carleen and whatever truths might lie there.
But there was only one way I was ever going to discover those, and that was by going there.
I had no doubt that that was exactly what Nuri wanted me to do. Had no doubt she was hoping that one step would lead to two, then three . . . and in no time at all, I’d be incarcerated within the walls of Winter Halo, investigating the disappearances for them.
I wearily scrubbed a hand across my eyes. I needed to sleep, needed to rest and recharge after the stress of the last twenty-four hours, but that was unlikely to happen any time soon. There were many things in this world I could and did ignore—but a child in danger? No matter how much I might tell myself otherwise, I just wasn’t capable of walking away from something like that.
And if Nuri was telling the truth, then there was more than one child in danger here.
I swore softly, then thrust away from the railing and headed back down the stairs. The ghosts danced around me as I made my way to the weapons stash, their excitement stinging the air. Not that any of them would accompany me—they were content to explore vicariously through Bear and Cat.
I snapped two small guns onto the thigh clips, then grabbed a couple of sheer knives, strapping them onto my wrists as I headed down to the main kitchen to add a small water bottle and some of the old jerky bars that had been around forever to my day’s supplies. They were about as tasty as eating cardboard, but I could survive well enough on them. Not that I actually wanted to very often—not when Central was so close, and it was easy enough to steal more palatable food.
I headed for the South Siding exit. It would have been quicker to exit through the dome, but Central’s drawbridge was down, and there were people in the nearby rail yards, waiting to be shunted to work. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing the museum doors opening and coming to investigate. They probably wouldn’t see me, but they just might be tempted to run a more complete test on the system and discover my override c
odes.
The closer we got to the exit, the cooler and sharper the air got. Goose bumps chased one another across my skin, and I half wished I’d stopped to grab my coat. Beams of sunlight filtered through the upper levels of the thick grate protecting the tunnel entrance, but the lower part was packed with the rubbish that had washed from Central’s drains after last night’s rain. I stopped, wrinkling my nose against the soggy scent of refuse.
“Bear, Cat, could you check that no one is close?”
They hummed in excitement and whisked through me, forming a light connection before heading outside. As their ghostly forms disappeared into the bright sunshine, images began to filter into my mind. Chaos lay wrapped in shadows, and no one had yet stepped beyond its shipping container boundary. There was no way beyond actually going into the place itself to tell whether anyone on the upper levels was looking this way—although it wasn’t as if anyone beside Nuri and Jonas had a reason to. Cat and Bear continued on toward Central. There were plenty of people on the drawbridge, and more still on the rail platforms or crowding into the caterpillar pods. There were also about a dozen guards—stiff, green-clad figures bristling with all sorts of weaponry—standing in the various guardhouses dotted between the curtain wall and the museum. Thankfully, none of these posts had a direct line of sight down the remains of the river—a curious mistake, given the close proximity of the rift. But maybe because they’d classified it as inactive, they’d decided it was of little threat—although given how little anyone really knew about the rifts, I wouldn’t have been taking that sort of chance.
Still, their decision made it a whole lot easier for me. I’d have to wrap myself in sunshine to get past the rail yards, but at least they wouldn’t see me exiting our hideaway. Once Cat and Bear returned and broke our connection, I kicked the rubbish away from the grate, then stepped out into the sunshine. Just for a moment, I raised my face to the sky and let the sunlight caress my skin. I might be genetically adapted to night and shadows, but there was still a part of me that loved—even needed—the sun. Which made sense, I guess, given it was that part that enabled me to disappear into light—which was what I now needed to do.